The Greeneyed monster
by andree campbell
Summary: Jealousy enters Dr. House's life in the form of a fine french attorney with an eye for Dr. Cuddy. /Huddy plot.
1. Chapter 1

Was it jealousy?

I am fine emotion. Nearly no one is immune from me. My targets usually expose their weakness in seconds usually with a glance or a sharp intake of breath. But I remember every face and I never forget a broken heart. Before you think badly of me, just remember I – Jealousy -- do more for spontaneity than a thousand cupids could ever dream to do. Take for example my latest pet project, one Dr. Gregory House.

Dr. House likes to imagine himself immune from emotion but his eyes betray him more than his lips ever could. He can't help himself. I'm present in his life across various shades of intensity. A pale gray for his "ducklings." A soft, shade of charcoal represents his feelings for his good friend, Dr. James Wilson but only in a platonic sort of way. Dr. Wilson is his _singular_ guy friend.

But we've struck the real pay dirt and reached the darkest most intense level of jealousy to be found in Dr. House's psyche when the name of Dr. Lisa Cuddy is mentioned. Funny thing is, House refuses to recognize me but I won't let him get away it for too long.

You see, Dr. Cuddy is in love with Dr. House but no more so than Dr. House is with Dr. Cuddy. He's been in love with her for years and deep down fears she pities him in his present condition. It's his immense sense of pride over his physical defects that cause him to fear her rejection. He's an idiot as Dr. Cuddy has so aptly told him on many occasions.

These two senseless, cowardly lovebirds have tested my patience for too long and I have decided to torture these two into confessing their feelings. It is great fun for everyone around them to speculate on their closeness but few know these two have done little more than share a kiss over the past 20 years. So how will I do it? Lisa Cuddy is a soft soul with a tough will to be taken seriously. Similarly, Gregory House is a fragile soul with an armored exterior fearful of being seen as vulnerable to love. These two idiots need a push. Enter one handsome, tall, 42-year-old attorney named Andre Fournier. Did I mention he has a lovely French accent? Mais oui.

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Andre Fournier waited somewhat impatiently to be announced to Dr. Lisa Cuddy one warm spring morning outside her office. He bore bad news in the form of a lawsuit and was pleasantly disarmed to find himself momentarily speechless at the sight of a petite, svelte brunette with the most elegant face he'd ever seen. Her large pale blue eyes and full mouth garnered his full attention.

Dr. Lisa Cuddy's expression quickly shifted from frown to calm demeanor as she glanced over the lawsuit filing her administrative assistant handed her seconds before Andre Fournier followed her in the larger office.

"Doc-tor Lee-za Cud-dee, ah pray-zoom?" Andre purred.

Cuddy couldn't help herself as she tore her eyes away from the dangerous document and found herself somewhat entranced by the lovely accent of the attorney before her.

"Yes?" She uttered. She extended her left hand in response to his extended left hand, noting no wedding band on his third finger. Andre quickly made the same mental notation of her third finger as he reached for her hand and pulled it to his lips in a soft muzzled kiss. Cuddy found herself surprised as a wave of goosebumps rose on her arms in response to his warm breath and soft lips grazing her hand. Recognizing the lawyer's practiced charm and smooth moves, Cuddy allowed herself to slip into slightly flirtatious mode and blinked slowly before staring into his eyes a little too long.

"What may I do for you?" Cuddy stated in a pleasant tone. Fear was not to be found.

"I am sorry to meet you under such strained conditions, but my client is suing your hospital for surgical errors causing him much pain and discomfort."

"Yes, I see that you have filed your case already," Cuddy murmured.

"I do apologize if this is a surprise to you. Perhaps we could take this discussion to a more relaxed location?" Andre flirted. "Would you care to discuss this matter over dinner tonight?"

Cuddy found herself flustered. "I don't think that would be appropriate at this time."

"I'm sure we can handle this matter quickly and perhaps avoid a lawsuit? No?"

"Well, that would be up to our lawyers," Cuddy said carefully. "I will schedule a meeting with our attorneys and your client as soon as our legal department has had an opportunity to review your case filing."

"Very good, Dr. Cuddy." Andre smiled. "I will look forward to seeing you again."

"Thank you, I'll be in touch tomorrow," Cuddy smiled back at the handsome Frenchman.

"Au revoir, Madame Cuddy."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Fournier."

Cuddy watched as the attorney once again raised her hand to his lips and kissed it again. She felt lightheaded and a little surprised at herself. The attorney turned slowly and walked to her office door, turning back to smile at her and exiting backward. "Madame."

"What just happened? Cuddy whispered to outloud. Her knees shook slightly as she lowered herself into her chair and stared through the french double doors to her office. Was it the accent? The dark blonde hair? The green eyes? For a Frenchman he was certainly taller than most but not too tall.

"Who the hell was that?"

Cuddy's head snapped up. Dr. Greg House was standing before her with a look she couldn't quite describe but clearly not a happy one.

" What?"

" I said, who was that guy?"

"An attorney."

"…And?"

"And what?" Cuddy said crossly.

"From the look on your face I'd say you're hot for frenchy. Are you?"

"Oh please!" Cuddy rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot! How do you know he's French?"

"I heard him laying it on thick with your admin. That and his smelly cologne wreaks of French sex."

"You're disgusting."

"And you're in lust! You know I do a pretty decent French accent myself. 'Allo, ma Leeza, bay-bee. Voulez-vous couchez avec….'"

"Did you want something or are you just here to annoy me?" Cuddy cut him off, standing abruptly behind her desk breaking eye contact and shuffling papers around in an attempt to hide her blush.

"Well, I was going to ask you to let me cut open this kid's head but this is infinitely more interesting…"

"What?" Cuddy cut him off.

"Yes, indeedy do. You want him and judging from his smarmy face, he wants to give you "le wood."

"Go away, House. I have work to do and so do you."

"You haven't answered my question yet."

"No I am not hot for him, he's suing the hospital…"

"I mean can I cut open the kid's head?"

"Go away, House. And, no, you can't. Find another way."

"What's frenchy's name?"

Cuddy glanced at the case document on her desk, "Andre Fournier. Why?"

"No reason. Just curious." House let his eyes roam down her body and back to her face. "Just curious."

"Goodbye, House."

"Au revoir, Madame Cuddy," House purred.

Cuddy tried to hide the small smile but House saw it anyway. House exited the office and stopped off in front of the young chubby woman sitting behind Cuddy's assistant's desk.

"Hey, if that French attorney calls Cuddy, let me know," House groused to the administrative assistant.

"Why should I?" She said without looking up, her body language ignoring him should her boss glance up to see the two of them conversing. Her hand slid across her desk slowly, palm up.

"Oh for the love of....fine! be that way you greedy...!" House dropped a twenty-dollar bill on her desk. She snatched it quickly cutting him off.

"That's more like it. I'll page you when something happens. But spying will cost you a lot more" House raised his eyebrows at her plucky yet deadpan tone.

"You're making a fortune off me!" he whined.

"Well save the money, grow a pair and ask her out, you big chicken!" This admin snarled.

"Yeah well…you're ugly." House sneered and spun off to hobble toward the elevators.

The admin smiled to herself knowing she won the round and the twenty. Cuddy didn't need to know everything going on in the hospital.

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Should I continue this storyline? This is my first story. I've got some great ideas for Andre to drive House green with jealousy and Cuddy into his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Jealousy is the most satisfying human emotion. It takes so little to motivate humans into action. Add a beautiful woman to an insecure man and a little competition and in no time you have the makings of a truly wonderous tale or the start of a great murder plot.

But not today. No, Gregory House was going to have to grow up a little or " grow a pair" as Cuddy's admin advised him the day before.

No, neither option was easy for House. He stalked back and forth in his apartment, swinging a small shot glass of bourbon, muttering to himself.

"She's going to fall that French sumbitch and I can't do a thing about it!" House had worked himself into quite a mood. He'd pounded out a few short attempts to play something emotional to relieve his frustration but found the music only sounded angry.

"Shit!" House fell onto his couch.

As if by some force of magic, Dr. James Wilson called just in time to distract House momentarily.

"What!" House practically bellowed into the phone.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Wilson bellowed back.

"uh…what do you want?" House groused in a half-hearted attempt to apologize for his earlier tone.

"Well, I was calling your sorry ass to see if you wanted to catch a movie or do something tonight." James snapped back. "But maybe that's not such a good idea seeing how you're in such a sour mood."

"I'm fine." House barely stated. "I'm just fucking fine."

"I'm coming over and behave yourself or I'll take the scotch and leave!"

"Whatever." House hung up the phone, pushed himself up off the couch and hobbled to the front door, unlocking the deadbolt. He glared at the door as if it was its fault for his sour mood. He spun off and headed to the kitchen. Slamming the cabinets around until he found the bourbon, ice cubes and two small glasses, he prepared the drinks and took them to the living room where he slumped down onto the couch, sipping a little too aggressively and eyeing up Wilson's glass. If Wilson did n't hustle faster House had plans for that second glass.

The minutes went by without notice. A sharp rap on the door was met with "It's open!" Wilson entered carefully, fully aware of his friend's sour mood and volatility.

"Is it safe to enter?" Wilson said in a clear voice.

"Yeah, did you bring beer?" House asked.

"You know I did."

James sauntered into the livingroom, shrugged off his jacket and slung it onto the back of the chair left of the couch. "That one for me?" he asked pointing to the highball on the coffee table.

"Yeah."

"Good. Something tells me I'm going to need it. What the hell happened that got you worked up?"

"nothing got me worked up," House groused at Wilson giving him an evil eye.

"It wouldn't have something to do with Cuddy's French attorney, would it." James smirked, not taking his eyes off the silent tv screen of the weather channel.

House was somewhat shocked that Wilson knew about it already. "NO!"

"uh huh." Wilson smiled slightly as he sipped his bourbon.

"Cuddy told me about him, you know." Wilson said off-handedly.

House slowly turned his head at Wilson as if Wilson had just become a science exhibit worth inspecting. House's eyes stared directly at Wilson's profile."

"Annnnnnnd???"

"And what?" Wilson said playfully.

"And, what did she say about him?"

"I dunno. She said he was representing a client suing the hospital." Wilson doled out the information slowly and painfully.

House drew in a sharp breath and just as he was about to launch into another prodding comment, Wilson continued on. "She did mention that he had seemed flirtatious."

"Ya think???" House said sarcastically. "I watched the French bastard eat her up with his eyes, drool over her hand,. He kiss her …."

"No he didn't!" Wilson snapped.

"Hell yeah he did! On her hand, idiot." House snarked. "This French SOB looked at her like she was the warmest slice of brie dripping over…"

"Man, are you jealous!" Wilson smirked. "You can't stand it!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" House mumbled, drawing his chin into his chest.

"Look at you. You're angry over nothing. You're pissed some suave French guy got Cuddy's attention and you're worried she's interested."

"What do I care."

"What do you care? What do you caaaare?" Wilson mimicked. "Oh you care, buddy! You're just too dense to do anything about it!"

"What am I supposed to do about it?" House asked as nonchalantly as possibly watching the silent weatherman pointing to storm fronts aimed at New Jersey on his TV screen.

"Well, for one thing, you might try distracting her from Andre Fournier." Wilson said as nonchalantly as he could staring at the weather graphics promoting rain patterns for the following week on House's silent flat screen.

"Hey, if she's interested in some French doofus who am I to try to …."

"Shut up, House! You know and I know and everyone else knows you're hot for Cuddy." Wilson sputtered at House. "Problem is you don't have the balls to do anything about it. You like being miserable. It feeds your 'mystique' but it doesn't get you laid!"

House was speechless. He'd never been told off in quite so accurately a manner by Wilson and Wilson had never referred to Cuddy and House getting sexual. House's bottom lip hung down, his mouth agape, eye brows arched.

"Moron!" Wilson bitched before taking a large swallow of the now cold bourbon drink. "You keep it up, Greg and she'll move on without you."

"I know. But what if I screw it up? You and I both know I will. She's my boss…."

"She's also your best friend!"

"I thought you were." House said in a low voice.

"I'm your friend but Cuddy's your best friend" Wilson said glancing over at the now deep in thought House staring at his feet on his coffee table.

"So now what?" House grumbled.

"So now you ask her out and you take her somewhere nice!" Wilson practically ordered. "No monster truck shows. No bars. No stripper joints. You take her somewhere….appropriate. You shave your ugly face, you put on a suit and for godsake, House make a reservation in advance!"

"What if she says no?"

"What are you twelve?" Wilson snarked. "She's been waiting for you for years, you idiot. Just do it nicely and don't be an ass. Ask her out like normal people do. Nicely, gently, earnestly and for God sakes, don't stare at her chest when you do it."

"she likes it when I do that."

"No, I don't think she does."

The two men sat silently for a few minutes.

"Auberge is nice." House mentioned.

"I know. Amber and I went there a few times. It's a French restaurant you know."

"I knooooow." House said sarcastically allowing his eyes to languidly turn to Wilson.

Wilson couldn't help laughing. "Poor Cuddy. Be nice to her or I'll kick your ass you know."

"You can try!"

"Seriously, House, be nice and treat her right. And don't go grabbing her breast again!"

"She told you?" House couldn't help himself as his voice rose.

"No, I saw you do it. You hurt her, House."

"I hardly touched her!"

"No, you idiot! You hurt her – you disappointed her. The look on her face was so sad I could have punched you myself but I didn't want her to know I saw what happened."

"No shit?"

"No shit, House."

"Yeah, well…that was a swing and a miss," House said admitted.

"Do something stupid like that again and you'll likely strike out for good," Wilson said before standing up. "Where's the bottle?"

"In the kitchen," House gestured. "Fill me up while you're up."

Wilson took both glasses into the kitchen, rinsing out the glasses before refilling them with ice cubes as House halfheartedly grabbed the tv remote and began flipping stations still muted. An odd sensation fluttered in his stomach as he considered how he'd approach Cuddy tomorrow about a real, actual, no-kidding honest to goodness date. A feeling of urgency enveloped him and the fluttering feeling returned again.

Was it fear fluttering in his stomach? Nerves? No. It was me. Jealousy.

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_Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and great feedback. I'm blown away with your kind words. This is my first fanfic and chapter two had to make House miserable. Let me know if I'm going off track or if you like the direction. Thanks again!_


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